


Marsh Monster

by BradyGirl_12



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Halloween, Holidays, Horror, M/M, Male Slash, Monsters, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Original Character(s), Sex, Sexual Content, Slash, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: Something wicked lives in McCready’s Marsh.





	1. Rage

**Author's Note:**

> Original DW/LJ Dates Of Completion: October 29, November 2, 18, 23, 27, December 3, 8, 2017, January 23, 26, 29, February 6, 18, 2018  
> Original DW/LJ Dates Of Posting: August 11, 18, 25, September 22, October 6, 13, 20, 26, November 10, 17, 25, December 2, 7, 2018  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC and Warner Brothers do, more’s the pity.  
> Original DW/LJ Word Count: 461 + 1160 + 1374 + 1076 + 814 + 1378 + 1048 + 967 + 775 + 966 + 1711 + 1506 + 1232 = (Total: 14,449)  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> All chapters can be found [here.](https://bradygirl-12.dreamwidth.org/3862199.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCready’s Marsh isn’t a good place to hang out alone at night.

_The marsh_  
_Holds secrets_  
_Better left_  
_Alone._

  


**Kiel Stawicki**  
**_“Nature’s Laments”_**  
**2001 C.E.**

  


Seymour ‘Bull’ Rush stomped around the marsh, his heavy work boots creating deep impressions in the pliable soil. He was a star linebacker for the _Smallville Crows_ and was going to State on a full football scholarship. He had his pick of girls and had a date next week with the head cheerleader, Mindy Moller. He had bullied nerdy Malcolm Kinsky into doing his homework so he could keep his grades up for eligibility. So why was he stomping around out here in the middle of the night with the frogs croaking and the crickets cricking? 

He had anger issues. Good for football, not so good off the field unless he was hanging out with his buddies. Bull shook his head. He had to… 

He ran a hand over his light brown buzzcut. He flexed big muscles under his red letterman’s jacket. He continued clomping on the spongy ground and brushed up against a clump of cat-o’-nine tails, setting them to waving in his wake. 

_That little rat! I oughtta beat him to a pulp!_

His meaty fists curled up into battering rams of rage. His broad face with the twice-broken nose and the missing front tooth twisted into a snarl. He was going over to Sammy Spear’s house and knock his block off. Make a fool of him, would he? Ol’ Sammy was gonna pay! 

The marsh water rippled as Bull steamed. He wasn’t going to play the fool for some know-it-all. Spear had made him look ridiculous in front of the guys and news would have gotten to Mindy by now. If that slut broke her date with him, he’d… 

A noise from the pond cut through his internal monologue. He turned and squinted at the water. A shadow moved beneath the surface. Curious, Bull leaned over closer to get a better look, wrinkling his nose. He didn’t know why he was here. He hated the smell of the marsh. Everything here was wet and slimy. His anger had propelled him here without him really noticing. 

The shadow under the water rippled again. As the moonlight shimmered on the pond, Bull suddenly raised his fist. The hell with it! He’d just clobber whatever it was and blow off some steam. 

A dark shape exploded out of the water and Bull screamed. The sounds of thrashing drowned out the sounds of the croaking frogs and chittering crickets. Shouts and a guttural noise echoed in the marsh. The autumn moon shone brightly as a scream was cut off. The water eventually returned to a placid sheen as bubbles danced on the surface, popping one-by-one as the sounds of the frogs and crickets could be heard again. 


	2. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lex ask questions about Bull’s disappearance.

_“Mysteries are fueled by questions.”_

  


**Robert B. Panko**  
**Mystery Writer**  
**2002 C.E.**

  
Clark grinned and cut a generous slice of pumpkin pie. Martha smiled as she put away the last of the groceries.

“Just a snack, Mom.”

“I know; you’ll need it. After all, lunch is a whole hour away.”

Clark accepted the good-natured ribbing in the same vein. He sat down at the kitchen table and dug into the pie with a shiny fork.

“Mmm, delicious as always.”

“You and your father are my biggest fans.”

“You’ve got Lex now, too.”

“I’m glad.” Martha folded the paper bag and put it in a drawer. “Want to invite him over for lunch?”

“Thanks, I will.”

& & & & & &

Lex was happy to accept the invitation and drove up at the appointed hour, knocking on the back door.

“Come in!” Martha called.

Lex entered the sunny kitchen. “Thank you for inviting me, Martha.” He still felt a little funny not calling her ‘Mrs. Kent’, but she had insisted upon the first name. 

“My pleasure, Lex.”

Lex hung his long coat on the peg by the door. Offering to take his coat was unnecessary since Martha had declared that he was family now. Still a little uncertain, Lex nevertheless happily played along.

Lunch was served, and it was fairly simple with deli turkey sandwiches with lettuce, tomatoes and mayonnaise and a side of alfalfa sprouts, celery hearts and dill pickles. Apple cider was the drink everyone agreed on.

“What, no pumpkin juice?” Lex teased.

“Sorry, just apple today,” Martha said.

“Hand-pressed by you and Jonathan, no doubt?”

“Oh, of course.” Martha’s green eyes twinkled as she took a sip. She put her glass down. “Clark, I heard that a classmate of yours is missing.”

“Who?”

“Bull Rush.”

“That’s his actual name?” Lex blinked.

“Just a nickname.” Clark frowned. “When did he disappear?”

“Last night.”

Clark’s frown deepened. “After a football game? He usually hangs out with the guys on the team.”

“He did, but Sadie Cutler says that the boys went home early as her son Matt surprised her coming home before she went to bed. The last anyone saw Bull was around ten o’clock.”

“I hope it’s not meteor mutants responsible,” said Lex.

“Could be.” Clark thoughtfully chewed his sandwich.

“I hope not.” Martha shuddered. “Meteor mutants are usually trouble.”

“Always,” Lex agreed.

After lunch, Clark suggested going out to look around for Bull. Once out of the house Lex turned to Clark and asked, “Is this guy someone we want to be pushing hard to look for? With a name like that, I somehow doubt it.”

Clark shrugged. “He’s a bully, so not really. I’m more interested in whether or not there’s a meteor freak running around.”

“Gotcha.” Lex looked up at the bright blue autumn sky. “Where do we start looking?”

Clark pondered the question. “We’d better start with some of the football team. They were the last to see him.”

“Okay.” Lex swept his arm toward his silver Porsche. “Your chariot, sir.”

Clark grinned. They hopped into the car and Lex took off in a swirl of gravel down the driveway.

Clark directed Lex to the Wilson farm and they pulled up to a neat-looking farmhouse with pumpkins on the front porch.

“I see Ken working in the barn. C’mon,” Clark said, pointing to the glimpse of someone in the shadowy interior. 

Lex followed his friend to the barn, the smell of hay and cows strong as they entered.

Ken looked up from his task of mucking out the stalls. A broad-shouldered boy, his dark hair fell over into his eyes. He brushed it back, his brown eyes slightly contemptuous. 

“What do you want, Kent?”

“Is that any way to talk to your former quarterback?”

“You wimped out on us.”

“I busted up my knee.”

Ken poked at the straw. “Why are you here?”

“Bull’s missing.”

“I heard.”

More poking. Clark glanced at Lex, who shrugged.

“Did he say where he was going last night?”

“Just home.”

“He wasn’t going to meet anyone?”

“No, I toldja, he was just going home.”

“What time did he leave?”

“Ten o’clock.” Ken stabbed the hay with his pitchfork. “I told all this to the sheriff. Why are you pokin’ your nose in?”

“Because I’d like to find out what happened to Bull.”

“Oh, yeah? Since when?”

“Since now.”

“Don’t you want to find your buddy?” Lex asked curiously.

“Who asked you?”

“Hey, if you don’t care…”

“Thanks, Ken. We’ll let you return to your work,” Clark said.

Lex pointedly looked down at the hay and smirked as Ken glared at him. Clark shook his head as they got in the car a few minutes later.

“Why did you goad him?”

“Why not? He was being a jerk.”

“So you have to be one, too?”

Lex grinned. “Why not?”

Clark shook his head again while Lex laughed. They drove down the road before Lex asked, “Where to next?”

“Malcolm Kinsky’s place. Bull has him do his homework.”

“Ah, the jock bullying the nerd.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Lex bumped Clark’s shoulder lightly. “You mean you haven’t intervened?”

“I’d like to but wiping the floor with Bull really isn’t my style.”

Clark was clearly uncomfortable with the answer so Lex didn’t push it. He was crazy about the kid but Clark was not always forthcoming, to say the least. Still, Clark was worth the mystery.

They stopped at another farmhouse as neat as the last one, though the porch needed painting. Clark stepped up to the front door and knocked.

A thin, bespectacled teenager opened the door, the look of a typical nerd, Lex thought. His look of apprehension changed to one of relief when he saw Clark.

& & & & & &

“Hey, Clark.”

“Hey, Mal.”

Malcolm noticed Lex leaning against his Porsche and he appeared nervous again. He stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Clark could hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen. Mal’s mother was home.

“How can I help you?”

“Did you see Bull last night?”

Malcolm flinched. “No.”

“Has he contacted you today?”

“No, why?”

“Apparently he’s gone missing.”

Clark watched the rapid calvalcade of emotions play across the thin boy’s face: surprise, delight, guilt and hope.

“Gee, that’s a tough break.”

 _For Bull, not you._

Clark couldn’t blame Malcolm. Bullies rarely left your life unless something permanent happened to them.

“Well, if you hear from him, tell Sheriff Adams.”

“Sure.”

Clark knew there was little chance of that but kept that thought to himself. He and Lex got into the Porsche and Lex said, “I doubt too many people around here will be sad to see Bull gone.”

“His parents, a few buddies, and football fans.”

Lex drove at a moderate pace, which was surprising but welcome. Clark needed to think.

“What if it isn’t a meteor freak?” Lex asked.

“Huh?”

“What if it’s a non-freak killer?”

Clark looked surprised for a minute, then shrugged.

“Then we’re in trouble either way.”


	3. McCready's Marsh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark leads Lex into McCready’s Marsh.

_Mists lie low_  
_Over weed-choked ground,_  
_Shrouding the secrets_  
_Of the haunted marsh._

  


**Michael Layton**  
**_“Cat-O’-Nine Tails”_**  
**1890 C.E.**

  
The sky was growing gray as the wind blew colder. Lex considered rolling up the windows but decided to hold off. The cold air was ‘bracing’, as his father would say. As evil as Lionel was, the man was an unabashed sensualist.

Clark was staring out the passenger window. For a teenager, he didn’t brood much, but today was one of those days. Lex remained silent as he drove, admiring the color of the autumn trees. He had never really stopped to enjoy such a simple pleasure since his childhood until he had moved back to Smallville.

“So where to now?”

Clark shrugged. “None of Bull’s friends will give us any more than Ken did.”

“Nice bunch of fellas.”

Clark smiled faintly. “Jocks versus everyone else. High school stuff.”

“Oh, I remember.”

Clark was busy working on where to go next so missed Lex’s tone. Lex was okay with that. He had no desire to go into his Excelsior years.

“Sheriff Adams.”

“Huh?” Lex blinked, leaving his reverie behind.

“We should speak to her next.”

“Won’t she just tell you to stay out of it?”

Clark grinned. “Probably, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Okay.”

Lex sped up. He’d been cruising at a moderate speed, unusual for him, and wondered if Clark had noticed.

“When she catches you at this speed, she’ll ticket you for sure.” 

“How do you think the Smallville Police Department stays in flack vests?”

“Your parking tickets?” asked Clark in amusement.

“Damned straight. Or not-so-straight.”

Clark’s eyes widened slightly. A smile curved lush lips. Lex’s heart beat a little faster.

They reached Smallville in good time and Lex parked in front of the police station. Clark got out and asked Lex, “Want to come in?”

“Why not? Maybe I can pay a few parking tickets while I’m at it.”

Clark grinned and led the way inside the station.

As a small town police station, the staff served not only the town but the outlying farms as well. Sheriff Nancy Adams and three deputies were on staff, the deputies rotating night duty with the sheriff pitching in frequently.

Adams was in her office talking on the telephone so one of the deputies, a tall, thin towhead with large hazel eyes and a sprinkling of freckles on his nose looked up from behind his desk. He was already standing and put a paperweight down on a stack of reports. 

“Hi, Clark. What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Joe.” Clark smiled. “Sheriff’s busy, I see.”

“Yeah, and in kind of a cranky mood.”

“Oh.” Clark’s smile turned a little brighter. “Maybe you could help me.”

Lex watched in amusement. He wasn’t sure if Clark was aware of his manipulative methods, or if he just did it automatically. The kid was a master at it, either way.

“How?” asked Joe, obviously flattered.

“Well, can you tell me anything about the Bull Rush disappearance?”

“Oh, well, it’s an ongoing investigation, sorry.”

“You mean there’s no clues?”

“No, I just can’t tell you. Unless you have something?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything. Have you, Lex?”

A bit startled, Lex said, “Ah, no, sorry.”

“Deputy Sawyer, better start your patrol.”

“Uh, yes, Sheriff Adams.”

Joe picked up his hat and jacket and left hastily. Sheriff Adams eyed Clark suspiciously as she came out of her office.

“What do you want, Clark?”

“Just wanted to find out if you’re turned up anything about Bull.”

“Well, as the deputy told you, nothing right now. You sure you got nothing for us?”

Clark shook his head. “It’s hard to figure a strong guy like Bull being overpowered by anybody.”

“Well, this is Smallville.” Adams crossed her arms.

“Ah, yes. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Not at all. If you see something, let me know.”

“Okay.”

Lex noticed the sheriff’s eyes on him as he turned to trail after Clark. Once outside, he remarked wryly, “Sheriff Adams isn’t exactly the most trusting type, is she?” 

Clark grinned. “Nope.” He sighed. “I’d be more frustrated but I don’t think they have anything.”

They both got into Lex’s Porsche and Lex asked, “Where to now?” 

“Home, I guess.” Clark suddenly snapped his fingers. “I forgot about Lydia.”

“Lydia?”

“Yeah, she lives out in the marsh.”

Lex frowned as he drove out of town. “I’ve heard about her. She’s lived out in McCready’s Marsh since the ‘30s, though some say she’s been there since the 1800s, when the town was founded.”

“Her ancestors might have been.”

Lex glanced at Clark. “Some says she’s a witch.”

Clark laughed. “Just because she’s an expert in herbs and other marsh plants, she’s a witch?” 

“Didn’t she and her ancestors practice midwifery?”

“Yes, before Smallville had a doctor.”

“Some still go to her.” At Clark’s look, Lex said, “I’ve heard stuff.”

“Some people do.” Clark stretched, distracting Lex. The Porsche bounced over a pothole and he gritted his teeth. “They leave a request for medicinal herbs at Lydia’s cottage and when they return the next day, the herbs are there.”

“She never goes into town?”

Clark shook his head. “Mr. Gaffney brings staples like coffee and sugar out to her place.” 

Lex drove the Porsche past endless cornfields, now filled with bare stalks as the last of the harvest was in. The trees were blazing with color as autumn was in full glory. Lex liked being this close to the land. Despite parks and other greenery in cities, it just wasn’t the same.

The cornfields turned into stubbled fields with bales of hay and then to meadows with wildflowers bobbing in the breeze. They finally reached the woods that edged the marsh.

“You’d better wait here,” Clark said as he got out of the car. “Italian leather shoes won’t survive trekking through the marsh.”

“Ah, but I came prepared.” Lex popped open the trunk and reached inside, lifting out a pair of sturdy hiking boots.

Clark grinned while Lex changed his footwear. Next he took off his long duster and put on a heavy lumber jacket from the trunk. At Clark’s look he grinned.

“What? Tramping through a swamp with a long coat isn’t a wise idea. Living around here makes you prepare.”

“It’s a marsh, not a swamp, and you’re wising up, city boy.”

Lex walked up to Clark and promptly patted Clark on the ass. Clark’s gaze grew heavy-lidded and he ran his tongue along his lips.

“You’re tempting me, Lex Luthor.”

“I like to hear you say that.”

Clark’s gaze did things to Lex he didn’t want to think too closely about. Clark turned and headed for the marsh with Lex throwing up his hands and following behind him.

Lex tried to take his mind off the spongy ground beneath his boots. Marshes were notoriously slithery, in his opinion. At least he was able to enjoy a great view as he marveled at how Clark’s jeans fit him so perfectly.

He could hear birds from a short distance away, haunting sounds that sent a chill down his spine. He supposed he would consider himself lucky that it was afternoon and not night. The distinctive damp watery smells of the marsh tickled his nose.

“Damn, it’s squishy out there.”

Clark chuckled. “Maybe you’ll appreciate cornfields more now.”

“Ha.”

Clark’s step was bouncy as he forged ahead, almost teasing in the way he walked. Lex wanted to smack his butt but that could start something he didn’t want to finish out here in the swamp…pardon him, marsh.

Instead he decided to concentrate on watching his step and anticipating the meeting with Lydia Kraven. He’d lived in Smallville for two years but had never seen her, but that wasn’t unique. Most people in Smallville had never seen her.

The occasional croak of a frog punctuated the squish of their boots as they went deeper into McCready’s Marsh. Lex felt mesmerized as the trees closed in around the two of them and the sun was blocked, giving Lex a claustrophobic feeling.

Clark found a path and suddenly paused by a bramble bush.

“There it is,” Clark said.

Lex nearly bumped into him and peered into the darkness.


	4. The Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lex arrive at the mysterious Lydia Kraven's cottage.

_Mystery whispers_  
_In the deep_  
_Of the forest._

  


**Selena Ashby**  
**_“Magickal Musings”_**  
**1986 C.E.**

  
The cottage wasn’t very big, but seemed as if it was part of an enormous oak tree. There was a small front porch, a slanted roof, and a small window with diamond panes and weathered blue shutters.

“Seems deserted,” Lex said.

“She’s often gone. I was hoping she was home.”

“Where does she go?”

Clark shrugged. “Deeper into the marsh. Who really knows? Lydia keeps her own counsel.”

They approached the cottage. Herbs were drying on the porch, suspended from the ceiling. A butter churn was set next to a rocking chair.

“No broom?” Lex cracked.

Clark rolled his eyes and called softly, “Lydia?”

Crickets could be heard in the silence. Lex wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

_Smallville’s getting to you._

Wind sang in the trees as the temperature dropped. Lex was glad for his heavy coat. Clark seemed unaffected by the cold, but he seemed distracted.

“Should you leave a note?” Lex asked.

“I guess so.” Clark fished around in his coat pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil. He wrote a short note with broad, confident strokes and left it on top of the butter churn with a rock as a paperweight.

“Let’s go,” he said.

& & & & & &

Lex drove Clark back to the Kent farm as the sun began to sink in the sky. Clark’s hand was on the door handle as he asked, “Want to stay for supper?”

Lex was tempted. A soft glow could be seen in the kitchen window, much more inviting than his cold, dark castle.

Clark put his hand over Lex’s. “Please, Lex. I’d like you to stay.”

That did it. Lex smiled and said, “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

“You won’t.” Clark squeezed Lex’s hand.

Lex shut off the engine and got out of the car. Clark said, “Go on in. I’ve got a few chores in the barn.”

Lex knocked on the kitchen door and Martha opened it. Lex immediately smelled the tantalizing aroma of fresh gingerbread as she invited him in.

“Thank you.”

He hung up his coat after removing his boots. Martha grinned. “What happened to the Guccis?” she asked as she took a pan of gingerbread out of the oven.

“Tramping around in the marsh.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “Have a piece of gingerbread, Lex. I’m going to start supper.”

“Can I help?”

“Thanks, but it’s pretty easy. Just chopping up a few things.”

Lex took the gingerbread and a glass of apple cider that Martha handed him and enjoyed the treat at the kitchen table while she chopped up carrots, celery and onions with long-practiced strokes.

The sound of the outside faucet going on meant that Clark was finished with his chores and was washing up. He came in and immediately said, “Gingerbread for me!” 

“Yes, dear,” Martha said with a smile. She handed him his snack and he sat at the table.

“I invited Lex to supper,” Clark said.

“I figured as much when he came in.” Martha threw the chopped vegetables into the large pot on the stove. “Did you boys find out the latest on Bull’s disappearance?”

Clark sipped his cider. “Not really. None of the people who saw him last had really much to say.”

Martha opened the refrigerator door and took out a cut of beef. “What did Sheriff Adams have to say?”

“You know Sheriff Adams. Plays things close to the vest.”

Martha started cutting the meat. “Law people are like that.”

“Law people?”

“Well, I’m not going to say 'lawmen’.”

Clark and Lex grinned. Clark said, “Gingerbread again?”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’ll spoil your supper,” Martha scolded.

“Okay, Mom.”

Lex laughed while Clark drained his glass with a cheeky grin.

Clark and Lex set the table and Martha put garlic bread into the oven. The warmth of the kitchen seemed fitting to Lex as wind rattled the windowpanes. He could smell the beef stew simmering on the stove and the garlic bread baking in the oven.

While the three of them were chatting, Jonathan came home. Lex was grateful that Jonathan wasn’t running him off with the shotgun, but he didn’t fool himself into thinking that if he hurt Clark, the shotgun wouldn’t come out again. He smiled to himself and sat down with the family for supper.

The talk inevitably turned to Bull’s disappearance. Jonathan hadn’t heard anything new in town.

“Big, strong kid like disappearing?” Jonathan paused while eating his stew. “Sure a mystery.”

“Is it really much of a mystery here, though?” Martha asked.

“You mean meteor freaks?”

“Exactly.”

“I put nothing past Smallville.”

Clark nodded sagely. Lex had to admit that it was a smart sentiment. Living in Smallville made you look at things differently.

The warmth of the kitchen and the acceptance of the Kents relaxed Lex. He listened to the speculations about Bull, noticing that Clark didn’t mention going to Lydia Kraven’s cottage, so he kept quiet about it. Clark was looking especially handsome in the soft kitchen light as dusk fell.

“Lex, you have any ideas?”

Lex looked up, startled. Jonathan was asking _him?_ “I, uh, do think the meteor freak theory is best.” He broke a piece of garlic bread off. “As you say, Bull Rush is a big guy. Who could overpower him? Someone with powers.”

Jonathan grimaced. “I’d hate to see another one pop up. All of them mean trouble.”

Lex slowly ate his garlic bread. He wondered at the easy way the Kents spoke about meteor freaks when their own son was one.

Or was he?

Was the genial, mild-mannered Clark Kent something else? As far as he could tell, Clark had multiple powers: speed, strength, and an acute sense of hearing. What else did he have up his sleeve?

Lex took a sip of cider. That line of thought only led to frustration. Probing Clark’s secrets would lead to disaster.

“I think meteor trouble could be the cause, but Bull’s got his enemies.” Clark ate a spoonful of stew.

“Who?” Lex asked. “He’s a popular football player.”

“Popular football players get the huzzahs, but there’s always someone resentful,” said Jonathan.

Lex was almost amused at the optimistic Kents, layering out humanity’s dark side. He crunched another bite of garlic bread.

“It sure is a mystery,” Martha said.

‘Mystery’ was the word for it, all right, Lex thought.


	5. Spooky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex is spooked in Castle Luthor.

_Musty walls,_  
_Dusty halls,_  
_Creaky stairs,_  
_Shadowed lairs._

_Never look back._

  


**Sir Edmund Shroppington**  
**_“These Old Castles”_**  
**1806 C.E.**

  
Lex sipped his coffee while he listened to Brahms and studied the figures on his laptop. Last night the castle had seemed especially cold after returning from the warm and cheerful Kent farm. His footsteps had echoed in the cavernous halls and there were no welcoming lights for him in the kitchen window. 

However, on this brisk morning, light streamed through the diamond-paned windows and Mrs.. Hollander, his excellent cook and housekeeper, was baking blueberry muffins in the kitchen while she hummed a pleasant tune. Usually she had Sundays off but Lex had asked her to work this morning (at time-and-a-half, of course), and she could have all of next Friday off, too. She had happily agreed.

Lex had not given her a reason for asking her to come over this morning and she didn’t ask. She had learned long ago not to ask too many questions in the Luthors’ employ.

_If she only knew,_ Lex mused as he sipped his coffee.

A fire crackled in the hearth as he worked. Last night had unnerved him. Usually he shrugged off the cold and dark of this drafty castle, but it had spooked him last night…

& & & & & &

Lex walked up the winding staircase, shadows moving as the wall sconces flickered. A draft whistled down the hall, not an uncommon occurrence here in the castle. He shivered, going up the stairs a little faster. Chiding himself for foolishness, his heart beat rapidly as he took big gulps of air and didn’t look behind him.

He turned off the lights at the top of the stairs and quickly walked down the hall, going into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. He threw the deadbolt and leaned against the door, his chest heaving.

_Get ahold of yourself, Luthor._

He draped his long coat over a chair and began undressing. He tried to calm down by going through his bedtime routine. Unless a big business deal was going down, he had acquired the habit of retiring for the night much earlier than he ever had in Metropolis.

_Man, you’re becoming a farmer. Early to bed, early to rise, though I doubt I’m all that much wiser._

He smiled as he brushed his teeth. Clark would appreciate that. 

His smile faded as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Why was he so jittery? The castle was always a little spooky but that had never bothered him before. He rinsed out his mouth.

_Maybe I’m getting spooked as it gets closer to Halloween. Or maybe the marsh got to me._

He turned off the bathroom light as he entered his bedroom. He was wearing flannel pajamas, a gag gift from the Kents last Christmas. His usual silk pajamas just didn’t suit him tonight.

_Maybe the contrast between the coziness of the Kent house is just too much with this drafty old mausoleum._

He shut off the lamp on his nightstand and stood by the window. Frost glittered on the hard ground as bare tree limbs swayed in the night breeze. He felt a shiver down his spine. 

_Smallville is a nice place to live, but it sure can give you the creeps sometimes._

Lex climbed into bed and for the first time since he was a kid, pulled the covers up over his head.

& & & & & &

“Fresh from the oven, Mr. Luthor.”

Mrs. Hollander cheerfully set a plate with a warm, buttered blueberry muffin in front of Lex, along with a glass of cold apple juice.

“Thank you.” Lex smiled.

“You’re welcome, sir. Would you like me to cook a half-chicken for your lunch today?”

“No, I can make a sandwich later with the chicken already cooked.”

“Very good, sir.”

“When you’re finished in the kitchen, you can go home.”

“Thank you, Mr. Luthor.” Mrs. Hollander was a tall, slightly chunky woman who always dressed in sensible shoes and housedresses, her pale, flaxen hair braided on top of her head. Her light blue eyes looked at Lex with concern. “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay a little longer?”

Lex smiled fondly. “Not necessary, Mr. Hollander. Thank you for the muffin.”

“More in the kitchen if you want them, sir.” She nodded and left the library.

Lex pulled apart the muffin and knew that he was lucky. Mrs. Hollander was as good a baker as Martha Kent.

He felt better now in the daytime. The castle wasn’t quite as…spooky.

“Jeez, Lex, you’re really losing it,” he muttered.

He drank his juice and ate his muffin and wondered if he was going to hide under the covers again tonight.

“I’d rather have Clark under the covers with me.”

His words echoed in the library, pinging off the stone walls as the fire popping punctuated each word.

“Sunday in Smallville,” he murmured.


	6. Miasma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lex are stymied.

_The air hangs heavy,_  
_Still and quiet,_  
_As the horror_  
_Creeps closer._

  


**P.H. Craftian**  
**_“The Old Ones”_**  
**1921 C.E.**

  
Clark was uncertain about his next step. If Bull Rush’s disappearance was the result of a meteor freak, he had to know. He stood by the back door of his home and scanned the fields with his telescopic vision. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

His gaze wandered over to Castle Luthor and he found Lex in his favorite room. The library looked warm and inviting and he decided to pay his friend a visit.

Clark started walking through the fields. Staying off the road meant that he could use super-speed if he wanted. Right now he wanted to take his time.

He was grateful for the solitude. Sometimes his mind raced and whirled and he was never quite sure if it was because he was Kryptonian or a teenager.

Much of his confusion centered around Lex. He was attracted to him. Oh, hell, he loved Lex. And his teenage hormones were letting him know it.

He trudged through stubbled fields, his hands in his jacket pockets. Lex suspected something. Why he hadn’t come out and asked Clark about his suspicions, Clark had no idea. Lex didn’t strike him as a guy who just let things go.

Well, it was probably best not to dwell on such questions. If Lex decided to ask, he would. It was useless to worry about the future when he had the present to enjoy. Something told him that he would look back on these days as some of the happiest of his life. 

He picked up the pace and allowed his thoughts to drift on the missing Bull Rush while he headed for Castle Luthor.

& & & & & &

The castle was always impressive but cold. Clark could admire the grounds, landscaped by a talented gardener, but he would always prefer the flowers his mother planted in flower beds and window boxes at their house.

He was let into the castle by Mrs. Hollander, who was on her way out. The cheerful woman was pleased to see him.

“Mr. Luthor’s in the library.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hollander.”

“You know the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Clark took the familiar route to Lex’s favorite room in the house. It was his favorite room, too, just about the only room besides the kitchen that was warm and charming. The crackle of the fireplace was comforting.

“Hi, Lex.”

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Clark liked Lex’s smile. “I wanted to hang out.”

Amusement sparkled in Lex’s pale blue eyes. “Enjoy.”

“Yeah, well, hanging out means two people generally, or more than two.”

“Looks like we’ve got the requisite number.”

Clark laughed. “Ah, very true.” He flopped down on the couch. “Just a quiet Sunday in Smallville.”

Lex closed his laptop. “What’s up, Clark?”

Clark stretched out and put his hands behind his head. “Why do you think something’s up?”

“Because I know you.”

Clark was happy at the thought. “I’ve got a plan.”

“What plan?”

“I’m going to the marsh tonight.”

Clark noticed the slight tensing of Lex’s muscles. He made sure not to let Lex know that he had noticed.

“Why? Lydia isn’t there.”

“She might be. It’s more likely to catch her home at night than during the day.”

“But what if she’s not there?”

“Then we return again.”

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?”

“You don’t want to come?” Clark was genuinely disappointed. Lex seemed to struggle with his answer, piquing Clark’s curiosity. What was Lex so afraid of? The marsh?

“All right, I’ll come.”

Clark beamed. “Good! Now, are there any more blueberry muffins like that one?” He pointed to Lex’s plate.

& & & & & &

Lex was trying to keep a clamp on his emotions. The marsh definitely spooked him. Clark, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected as his boots clomped on spongy ground.

_Get ahold of yourself. A marsh is just a swamp with no alligators, which is a plus._

Lex resignedly trudged along behind Clark. He could have let the object of his desire come here alone, but no matter how many powers he suspected Clark possessed, he still didn’t like the idea of letting him come here alone. Whether it was his own nervousness or just being a protective boyfriend, he wasn’t sure. All he knew that despite his dislike of McCready’s Marsh, he wasn’t going to let Clark roam around in here without back-up, especially with the strange disappearance of Bull Rush. 

Somewhere a loon belted out its eerie cry, sending little shivers down Lex’s spine. Why did Lydia Kraven have to live way out there in a spooky marsh?

 _Because she’s a Witch,_ he thought wryly.

Who knew for sure in Smallville?

Lex paused. He was certain something had slithered right across his path. Grateful for his hiking boots, he stayed close to Clark.

They reached the cottage, slivers of moonlight poking through the canopy of leaves overhead. Clark had advised Lex to take a flashlight, because the thin moonbeams would not provide much illumination. Lex frowned. Even the flashlight beams were swallowed up by this stygian darkness. 

_Why would anyone live here?_ He paused. _Well, I guess people wonder about me and the castle, but at least it’s light there._

Clark put a hand on Lex’s arm. “Wait here,” he said in a low voice and headed for the porch.

An owl hooted in the distance as Clark climbed the short steps. Lex noticed no rock on top of the butter churn.

“Is the note gone?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.” Clark peered into the window and knocked softly on the door.

“Maybe she’s asleep.”

Clark shook his head. “No.”

“What else is there to do out here? I figure she’s got no electricity.”

“She doesn’t.” Clark touched a string of herbs, which twirled slowly.

Lex noticed two large, fat pumpkins flanking the door. Lydia had obviously been here since their last visit.

“So where is she?”

“Not here.” Clark came down the stairs.

“How can you tell? I still say she could be asleep.”

Clark looked almost impatient. “If she was here, we’d know it.”

Lex felt a little impatient himself. This Lydia Kraven didn’t see-all, know-all. She was just a woman.

_Or a Witch._

“I’ll have to come back sometime this week.” Clark buttoned his coat and they left the clearing.

At the edge of the clearing, the hairs on the back of his neck caused Lex to rub it. He had the feeling they were being watched. Turning around, his eyes widened as he thought he saw a pair of eyes staring out from the forest by the cottage.

“Clark?”

“Hmm?”

Lex blinked and the eyes were gone. “Nothing.” He followed Clark with alacrity.

& & & & & &

Cal Anderson was furious. He stomped along the spongy ground as he carried a net and pail. His wife was the most aggravating woman! Yammering about getting a new washing machine. Did the dang woman think money grew on trees? So she had to use a washboard for awhile. It was good enough for her grandma, ought to be good enough for her.

He grumbled as he headed for the marsh. Catching frogs to sell to the medical school over in Rachel would get him a little money, enough for a toot at The Dew Drop Inn not far from here. Better than another evening listening to his old lady nag.

A stocky man with a crew cut, he was dressed in a blue denim shirt and waders. He shuffled into the murky pond. The frogs were croaking real good tonight, he thought. Shouldn’t be too hard to scoop up a dozen at least.

As he worked he listened to the usual sounds: frogs croaking, crickets cricking, the occasional loon…and bubbling.

Cal frowned as he saw the water bubbling several feet away. The frogs in his bucket jumped like they were on a hot griddle.

_Good thing this ain’t Florida. ‘Least it ain’t a gator._

A dark shape could be seen under the moonlit water. Curiosity warred with fear. The latter won out. He turned to leave just as the water exploded.

& & & & & &

In his bed in Castle Luthor, Lex moved restlessly in his sleep as a scream died out on the night wind outside the castle. 


	7. The Witch Of The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lex visit Lydia again.

_Her eyes were wise._  
_Truth, not lies,_  
_As her silence keened,_  
_The woods leaned_  
_In ways crazy,_  
_Mists hazy._

  


**Jewel O’Reilly**  
**_“In The Green”_**  
**1987 C.E.**

  
Clark dialed Lex’s number. His friend picked up on the second ring.

_“Lex Luthor.”_

“Lex, it’s me."

 _"Hello, Me."_ Clark could clearly hear amusement in Lex’s voice.

He glanced around. The corridor where the phones were located was empty right now as everyone was in class.

“We’ve got another disappearance.”

Lex sighed. _“Does that mean another trip to the swamp?”_

“Marsh. And I’d like to try again tonight.”

_“Stop by on the way to the squishy place.”_

Clark laughed. “Okay, see you after supper. I’ve got to get to class.”

_“Okay.”_

Clark hung up and went to Math class.

& & & & & &

“Damn.”

“What’s the matter?”

“This ground is definitely squishy. Yuck.”

Clark smiled. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

Lex shook his boot and followed Clark with a sigh.

They reached the cottage and Lex immediately felt something different from their previous visits. A shadow moved on the porch and Lex grasped Clark’s arm.

Lydia Kraven’s age was indeterminate. Gray hair framed a face that could be thirty or fifty. She wore an old brown sweater over a gray dress, her stocky body half-hidden in the shadows. 

It was the eyes that drew Lex. An almost unearthly blue, they saw everything, of that Lex was sure.

“’Evenin’, Clark.” She looked at Lex, who was standing a few feet behind Clark. “’Evenin’, Lex.”

“Good evening, Lydia.”

Lex had undergone strange introductions before, but this one was a doozy.

Her gaze returned to Clark, who returned her greeting as well. “It’d be best if you and your friend stayed out of the marsh.”

“Have you seen anything?”

“Nope.”

“Did you see Bull Rush or Cal Anderson?”

“Nope.” Lydia shoved her hands in her sweater pockets. “Just stay outta McCready’s, Clark. This ain’t the time of year to hang around here.”

The crickets sounded louder to Lex. He was more than happy to take Lydia’s advice and get the hell out of Dodge, but he waited for Clark’s cue.

“I don’t want you out here alone if another meteor mutant is running around.”

Lydia chuckled. “You’re a gem, Clark. Always worryin’ about other people.” She cocked her head. “Thanks, but I been takin’ care of myself long before you were born. Go home, Clark. Stay clear until after Samhain.”

She vanished into the shadows and Lex tugged on Clark’s coat sleeve. Clark looked frustrated but left the clearing.

Lex felt his skin tingle as they walked. Something wicked this way…Lex speeded up a little.

The wind whistled through the trees as the half-moon shone down. The pond shimmered as an owl hooted in the distance. Mist was rising over the water as Lex stifled the urge to run, but he didn’t look back.

Clark frowned and veered off toward the pond. His boots touched the edge of the water.

“Clark.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, we’re here after Wendy the Witch told us to vamoose.”

Clark smiled slightly. “’Vamoose’?”

“That’s right. C’mon, let’s go.”

Clark was staring at the water, then abruptly turned and strode away. Lex had to almost run to catch up.

Once they were out of the marsh, Lex opened his car door and said, “Lydia Kraven’s advice is sound. That place is spooky, even for Smallville.”

Clark was distracted, still looking in the direction of the marsh, but he smiled.

“What’s the matter, Lex, nervous?”

“Damned right I am. Lydia Kraven and her spooky cottage gives me the willies.”

“Lydia can be a little dramatic.”

“A little?” Lex walked around the car to Clark. “What’s up, Gorgeous?”

Clark blushed but said, “It’s just not right.”

“What?”

“This whole set-up.” Clark waved his hand in the direction of the marsh. “It’s fishier than Hob’s Pond.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

Clark sighed. “I guess we better go home.”

Lex touched Clark’s face. “On a beautiful night like this?” 

Clark’s breath hitched. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he said, “It’s only a half-moon.”

“Still romantic.”

“Romantic, huh?” Clark’s hand cupped the back of Lex’s head and drew him close. Their lips met and Lex felt the power of the kiss all the way down to his groin.

They kissed more urgently, Lex pushing Clark back onto the hood of his Porsche. He kissed Clark’s throat and collarbone as Clark cupped his buttocks, squeezing as he panted.

“Lex…”

“Mmm, c’mon, baby.” Lex rained Clark’s face with kisses. He rubbed against his lover, so happy after a night of tension. “Mmm, you taste good.”

Clark thrust up and Lex worked their pants to allow their cocks to rub together, creating their own heat in the chilly night.

“C’mon,” Lex panted, the friction growing heated. He clutched Clark’s shirt, their hips meeting as they reached the edge.

An inhuman howl split the air as the lovers froze. Time stood still until Lex croaked, “What the hell?”

Clark gently pushed Lex off him and rolled off the hood. He quickly pulled up and zipped his pants and began running for the marsh.

Lex fumbled with his zipper and stumbled after Clark once he was put together. “Worse _coitus interruptus_ ever,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

It was a madcap race to the marsh, but nothing was disturbed. A covey of quail took off from a set of bushes, causing Lex’s heart to thump a little harder. They reached the edge of the pond but there wasn’t even a ripple on the water. No more strange cries, either.

“I know the sound came from here.” Clark pointed down at the pond.

“There’s nothing here.” Lex put his hand on Clark’s shoulder.

“You heard that sound.”

“Ghastly, I know, but we shouldn’t stick around here.”

“We’ve fought meteor mutants before.” 

“Yeah, but let’s do it in the daylight.” Lex squeezed Clark’s shoulder.

Clark stubbornly remained motionless as he stared hard at the water but finally said, “All right.” He turned away and Lex felt relief. Whatever this was…

“Oh, crap.”

Clark looked at Lex curiously. “What?”

Lex pointed to the ground and Clark let out a low whistle.

A huge set of footprints was deeply impressed in the mud as they led to the pond.


	8. Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clues drop that puzzle more than illuminate.

_What stalks the night?_  
_Imaginings run wild,_  
_Or monsters_  
_From the deep?_

  


**Cyrus McKellan**  
**_“Whispers In The Woods”_**  
**1990 C.E.**

  
Nancy Adams stared down at the footprints. Her powerful flashlight illuminated the deep impressions in the soft ground. They looked as if they had been made from enormous boots. She rose from a crouch and looked hard at Clark and Lex.

“What were you two doing out here?”

“Looking for clues to the disappearances,” Clark said.

Adams barely restrained her exasperation. “Why are you always mixed up in these things?”

Clark shrugged sheepishly. “Just lucky, I guess?”

Adams huffed and looked toward her deputy. “Sawyer, you and Munoz take a look around and then take care of these.”

“Right, Sheriff.”

The thin deputy moved off into the woods with Munoz as Adams studied the water. She shone the flashlight onto the pond and nothing unusual appeared in the murky water. She sighed and lowered the bulky flashlight.

“So you heard a howl?”

“Yes, it sounded…animalistic,” said Lex. Clark nodded in agreement.

“We’ll have to come out here in daylight,” the sheriff said.

Lex didn’t feel quite so on edge. He doubted whatever was hiding out in this marsh would attack with all of them present. Lone victims was the usual way of these things. At least, he hoped so.

“You boys better go on home.” Nancy Adam’s tone brooked no argument.

“On our way, Sheriff.” Lex plucked at Clark’s coat sleeve and the younger man reluctantly followed.

“Lex,” he breathed.

“It’s good advice, Clark. Nothing more will happen tonight.”

“You’re probably right,” Clark admitted grudgingly.

They reached Lex’s Porsche, both looking longingly at the hood. They got in and Lex drove Clark home. Just before he turned the car into the Kent driveway, he put it into park and grabbed Clark by his coat lapels and drew him into a kiss.

Clark tasted sweet, just what Lex needed. He regretted their earlier interrupted lovemaking, but at least he’d get a good night’s kiss.

The kiss was long and delicious, and when it ended, Clark looked at Lex with half-lidded eyes. Lex sighed.

“Stop that.”

“What?”

“Looking so sexy.”

Clark’s smile was pure sex. _This_ guy was a corn-fed farmboy? Innocent as the driven snow?

“Okay, time to get you home.” Lex sighed regretfully.

Clark just laughed and leaned back against the seat as Lex gunned the car up the driveway. He winked at Lex as he got out of the car as Lex idled the engine.

“Good night, Lex.”

“Good night, Clark.”

Lex watched as Clark stepped up to the porch. Great view. Those jeans were the perfect fit.

Once Clark was safe inside, Lex drove away, noting the warm glow of lamplight in the living room. The Kents were still up and would welcome their son home.

Lex drove down the lonely country road, careful that no one was walking down the edge, maybe a bit wobbly from too many corn squeezings.

A gust of wind rippled through the cornfields, the earless stalks undulating like oceanic waves. Clouds were moving in with the promise of rain. Lex laughed quietly. He was noting the weather like a farmer. What would his father say?

He frowned as he noticed several broken stalks, as if someone had barreled through the field. A big someone.

Lex parked the Porsche on the shoulder of the road, climbing out from behind the wheel. He noticed wet spots on the road, as if it just rained, but it had been dry for several days. He wrinkled his nose. What the hell?

“Why does it smell like the marsh?” he muttered. He peered into the semi-tunnel but the moon was behind a cloud, shrouding the space in darkness.

The smell was strong. The wind blew and Lex could have sworn he heard whispers. He shrugged. This time of year was especially windy. Also spooky.

_Don’t let Clark know Halloween gives you the jitters._

Or maybe it was being alone on a deserted country road with some kind of meteor freak roaming around. He didn’t need to test the water at his feet. The murky smell gave him his answer. 

His head jerked up. Was that a howl he had heard, far off in the distance? Suddenly Lex realized it might not be the wisest idea to hang around here, especially alone. He jumped into his car and sped off for home.

& & & & & &

Lex locked up the Porsche in the garage and entered the castle via the front door, looking over his shoulder. He muttered under his breath as he fumbled with the lock. The key turned and he quickly went inside and locked the door behind him. He frowned as he made his way carefully down the hall. No warm welcoming glow for him. He turned on the light at the bottom of the staircase and turned it off when he reached the top.

He got ready for bed, the wind rattling the windowpanes. He finished brushing his teeth and came into the bedroom, going over to the window to shut the blinds. He glanced down at the yard and froze. 

Was that a shadow moving at the edge of the woods?

Lex strained his eyes to see. He wished there was a full moon tonight. He kept staring but couldn’t make out anything.

Throwing on a robe and slippers, he went down to the security room. The guard had the night off, a generosity he was now regretting. He wound back the tape and studied it.

Nothing.

Still unsettled, Lex turned off the monitor. He was letting the latest weirdness spook him. Time for a good night’s sleep.

He went upstairs, closed the blinds, and climbed into bed. Exhausted, he quickly fell asleep while down below, a copse of trees shook violently.


	9. The Last Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monster strikes again.

_Closed-off,_  
_Raging,_  
_Bitter._

_Maelstrom._

  


**Kevin Kovnic**  
**_"The Darkness Behind Me"_**  
**1918 C.E.**

  
The days of October continued in their full glory as Halloween grew closer. Sheriff Nancy Adams alerted people to be vigilant and to avoid the marsh, where evidence pointed to the disappearances. She wanted to avoid packs of gun-toting vigilantes roaming the countryside. Most people would steer clear of McCready’s Marsh and trust the Smallville Police Department to solve things. Didn’t Nancy Adams have plenty of experience? And she usually got the job done in this nutty town.

The people of Smallville went about their lives, making apple cider and pumpkin pies as mothers sewed costumes for their children, the kids looking forward to trick-or-treating. Farmers got the last of their harvests in while some ambitious types set up roadside stands and sold their colorful produce to people out to view the turning leaves or just interested in healthy eating. The town was decorated and parties were planned. Smallville went forward, though they took precautions as well, locking windows and doors and making sure they followed their own advice about avoiding going anywhere alone. 

Clark and Lex returned to routine, though Clark kept his ears tuned for any howls or other strange noises. He took a couple of quick trips to the marsh and studied the pond but saw nothing. Perhaps the disappearances had nothing to do with meteor freaks, but were caused by humans, or even just one. He kept out of sight of the sheriff and her men, who combed the marsh during the days. As no further incidents occurred, he turned his attention to Halloween.

Smallville usually hosted an event on the town square on Halloween after trick-or-treating. It could be a scarecrow-decorating contest or a Jack O’Lantern-carving contest. There might be a Harvest Festival with booths and games and prizes for the best costume.

This year a showing of the classic 1931 _Frankenstein_ would be shown in the square on a large screen. The Farmers’ Almanac predicted good weather. Donations for admission would be accepted for charity. It promised to be a fun night.

& & & & & &

Eckersley Tannen was a cantankerous young man who lived alone on a hardscrabble farm at the edge of McCready’s Marsh. He kept to himself and only ventured into town if he needed to visit the doctor or dentist. The grocery store delivered food and other staples to him and he gave good tips to ensure prompt service, but otherwise he rarely ventured off his place.

Eckersley was gaunt, his brown hair lank and falling into his eyes. He wore faded jeans and a soiled T-shirt. He oiled a shotgun as he sat by the fireplace, logs that he’d split crackling in the hearth. His farmhouse was old and falling apart, but he didn’t care. Life had never been easy for him. His drunken old man had smashed his truck against a telephone pole one night, and his mother died a few years later of emphysema after a lifetime of heavy smoking. Eighteen and the farm was his, but he’d never made a go of it. 

Five years later he still loathed people and liked being alone. He hadn’t been to town in months, and he didn’t read the local paper and had no Internet connection. His radio was busted. He had never heard of the disappearances of Bull Rush or Cal Anderson or Sheriff Adams’ warning to stay out of the marsh. 

The clock on the mantel ticked loudly as Eckersley worked. A howl off in the distance made him pause. Could a coyote be roaming around? They were becoming more plentiful these days. He shrugged and resumed cleaning his gun.

Another howl narrowed his eyes and he went to the window. Dusk was falling but he still had enough light to see, and there were no coyotes skulking around out there.

A third howl brought him onto his front porch as he gripped his gun. Whatever was causing a ruckus would never get past him.

The high, wild grass around his property led to the woods and the marsh. He watched as the trees started to shake.

_What the hell?_

Eckersley raised his shotgun, ready to shoot. He scowled as the howls grew louder. The trees shook harder. Darkness grew as the earth began to shake.

Eckersley’s heart hammered in his chest as he waited, standing firm. Whatever this beast was, he would blow it clear to hell.

The trees parted and Eckersley’s jaw dropped. He froze for a few seconds, then squeezed the trigger. Bullets flew and the shotgun emptied.

The last thing Eckersley Tannen ever did was scream.


	10. A Golden Evening ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lex enjoy a sexy evening together. :)

_Youthful fire,_  
_Lighting ire,_  
_Or maybe just_  
_A little loving._

  


**R. Regis Mendelbright**  
**_"Poems To Read By The Fire"_**  
**1959 C.E.**

  


“Who suggested _Frankenstein?”_ Clark asked as he helped his mother to put away the groceries from her trip into town.

“Corinne Wilson did. Turns out she’s a big horror movie fan.”

“That nice little old lady?”

“Sure, nice little old ladies can have dark sides.” Martha laughed at her son’s chagrined expression. He shook his head as he put the jar of Jiffy peanut butter on the top shelf.

“So what are you dressing up as this year?” Martha asked.

“Me? I’m not going trick-or-treating.”

“Oh, get in the spirit, honey.”

“Ha, ha, good one.”

She smirked as she put a carton of eggs into the refrigerator. “Hand me that jar of pickles, will you, please?”

Clark handed her the jar and folded the empty grocery bag. He started unloading the second bag. “The town’s all fired up for Halloween.”

“It usually is.”

“Weren’t you the one who said, ‘It’s Halloween every day in Smallville’?”

Martha smiled. “I may have.”

“Dad was a little put out when you first said it.”

Martha put away a box of cereal. “Well, your dad’s a country mouse and I’m a city mouse.”

Clark smiled. “Kind of like Lex and me.”

Martha considered that. “Guess you’re right, though I think Lex is getting more countrified.”

Clark paused as he picked up a box of dishwashing soap. “You may be right. Lex seems to be picking up some of our customs.”

“Yes, those customs are pretty exotic,” said Martha dryly.

Clark smirked at her. He put away the soap and said, “Well, Halloween’s almost here. Just another day in Smallville.”

“And you need a costume.”

“Aww, Mom, costumes are for kids.”

“You know better than that, Clark. “ Martha set a fat beefsteak tomato on the cutting board. “Finish putting away the groceries, will you, dear? I’ll start lunch.”

Clark did as requested, wondering if he would have time later to make a quick dash to McCready’s for some more searching. The phone rang and he answered it.

“Oh, hi, Lex. Sure, after my chores I can come over. Nothing’s going on tonight.” He glanced at Martha, who nodded her head. “Great, see you then.” He hung up.

“I’m going out to start my chores, Mom.”

“Okay, dear.” Martha smiled knowingly as she chopped up vegetables for a salad.

Clark made quick work of his chores. There was lunch to enjoy and a visit with Lex. He had a golden evening ahead of him.

& & & & & &

After lunch Clark visited Pete Ross and worked on a school project they had been assigned. They made good progress and Clark departed for Castle Luthor next.

Mrs. Hollander had prepared a hearty supper of beef stew and warm, crusty bread with apple cider. Clark always loved Mrs. Hollander’s cooking. It rivaled his mother’s. They ate in the kitchen, and she joined them as they chatted about Halloween plans.

“I can’t believe that it’s almost upon us,” she said. She sipped her cider. “Thanksgiving and Christmas will be here before you know it.”

“True, but let’s not rush things,” said Lex.

“Oh, I don’t know. I like the idea of the holidays on the way,” said Clark cheerfully.

“You would,” Lex grumbled as Clark and Mrs. Hollander smiled.

They helped the housekeeper clean up and then she was gone for the evening. Clark and Lex went to the den where the wide-screen TV was mounted. They settled on the couch, and Lex asked, “Any preferences for a movie?”

“Something R-rated.”

Clark leaned over and kissed Lex passionately. Lex returned the kiss with equal fervor. Their hands groped at each other, Lex pushing Clark down onto the couch.

“I think we can do R-rated,” Lex smirked. “Maybe even a little X.”

“They…” kiss “…use NC-17...” kiss “…these days.”

Lex silenced Clark with another kiss. The sunlight streaming into the den began to fade as the sun went down.

Two virile young men weren’t long to hit the high notes as they laughed and gasped and moaned. It was all very R-rated as Lex had promised as he thrust his tongue down Clark’s throat and Clark unzipped his partner’s pants and touched his cock. 

“Ooh, yeah, that feels good,” Lex grunted, straightening up.

Clark stroked harder and Lex unbuttoned his shirt, tweaking the younger man’s nipples. Clark arched his back and lightly squeezed Lex’s balls. Lex moaned and jerked forward, spattering his seed all over Clark’s chest.

“Ooh, Lex!”

Clark thrust up as he freed his cock. Lex took him in hand and skillfully brought his lover to climax. Clark saw the gleam in Lex’s eyes as he watched Clark in the throes of ecstasy.

Maybe it was a little X-rated, too.

& & & & & &

After cleaning up, Lex and Clark relaxed on the couch. Lex smiled and said, “Now that’s what I call an after-dinner treat!”

Clark laughed. “I agree.” He rested his hand on Lex’s thigh. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“I’m a generous host.”

Clark was acutely aware of the silence in the castle. After Mrs. Hollander’s departure, there was no staff left for the night.

_Must be awfully lonely here._

He wished that he could spend some nights here, but as liberal as his parents were about their son in love with another man, they would draw the line at Clark sleeping in Lex’s bed.

_This place is a little spooky._

Spookiness made him think of the disappearances in the marsh. He decided to say nothing. Nothing to kill the mood faster than weirdness, though Lex did love a mystery.

& & & & & &

That night Clark slept soundly, not even disturbed by a distant howl while at Castle Luthor, Lex shifted restlessly in his own bed. 


	11. Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween arrives.

_Things_  
_Are strange,_  
_Out here._

_Shifting,_  
_Whirling,_  
_So near._

  


**Elsinore Gray**  
**_"The Horror Of The Hollow"_**  
**1921 C.E.**

  
Early on Halloween morning Clark went out to the marsh. The sun was just rising over  
the hills, streaks of rose-pink, lemon-yellow, and tangerine-orange lighting the sky. Sunlight danced across the pond as Clark stared into its depths. Nothing but fish, weeds and silt.

He went to Lydia’s cottage but she was off on one of her mysterious trips. He considered it a good thing. It would keep her away from whatever might be lurking in McCready’s. He left the marsh before Sheriff Adams and her men showed up.

& & & & & &

The children of Smallville were excited as they dressed up in costume and marched in the Horribles Parade at school. They chattered about trick-or-treating plans for the evening and a group of teenagers planned a party. Clark broke down and chose a costume for that night. Martha set up candy by the front door while Jonathan finished his chores in the barn and lit the candles inside the Jack O’Lanterns on the porch.

In town, the giant screen had been set up and folding chairs arranged on the edges of the square as most people would use blankets to sit on the lawn or bring their own lawn chairs. Concession stands were set up and would be operating just before showtime.

As the sun set, Smallville geared up for Halloween.

& & & & & &

Lex tilted his fedora rakishly. His brown leather jacket crinkled as he moved and he laced up his hiking boots. He picked up a satchel and looped the strap over his head. He left the castle and went into the garage, climbed into the Porsche, and hit the road.

The night was clear as the moon peeked out from behind the clouds. The road was empty, but Lex kept an eye out for any trick-or-treaters. He passed the spot he had investigated yesterday, but the cornstalks had snapped back and there was no evidence of anything out-of-the-ordinary on the road.

Lex arrived at the Kent farm and parked to the side of the house but he went up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Footsteps approached and the door opened.

“Trick-or-treat!” Lex said with a grin.

“Well, what do we have here?” Clark asked, playing along.

“A professor of archeology.”

“Ah, Indiana Jones.”

“And I see that you’re in the spirit of the evening. Count Dracula, I presume?”

Clark bowed elaborately. “Come into my lair, um, house.”

Lex entered and smirked at the various Halloween decorations around the living room: there were pumpkins, painted or plain, and figurines of witches and ghosts set on the floor and tables, and tiny pumpkin lights were strung across the mantel. Black candles flanked a Jack O’Lantern whose inner lights winked on-and-off.

“You go all out, don’t you?”

“Mom loves to decorate.” Clark adjusted his high-collared cape. “You’ve seen this stuff already. She had it up as soon as the calendar turned to October.”

“There’s something about it all on Halloween night.”

Clark swirled his cape. “’Tis the night for it, all right.”

“You really rock that cape.”

Clark looked down at the black silk. “I think you’re right.” He grinned. “Hey, Mom, Lex is here.”

“Hi, Lex!” Martha called from the kitchen.

“Hello, Martha!”

She emerged from the kitchen, dressed in a white dress and blond wig.

“All you need is a subway grate now, Miss Monroe,” said Lex.

“Thank you, dear.” She checked her watch. “Your father and I are heading for town,” she told Clark. 

“I’ll stay here for the trick-or-treaters.”

“Good. See you later.” She kissed her son’s cheek and put on a coat.

“I’ll keep Clark company,” Lex offered.

Martha smiled. “Thanks, Indy,” and hurried out the door as Clark picked up a false set of fangs from the coffee table. “The kids will come ‘til about eight o’clock, then we can leave for town,” he said.

“Sure, Count.”

Clark chuckled. “We’ll have to watch _Dracula_ the next time I come over.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lex put his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “You know how refreshing it is that a guy your age likes old films? Most of them only like the latest mindless action flick or some juvenile comedy written by the equivalent of twelve-year-olds.”

“Nothing wrong with a little action.”

“No, as long as you sample other offerings on the buffet table.”

“’Buffet’ or ‘buff’?”

“Well, in your case, ‘buff’.”

Clark smiled. The doorbell rang and he put in his fangs, eliciting shrieks and giggles when he opened the door to the chorus of “Trick-or-treat!”

& & & & & &

Mike Barnwell parked his car on the gravel driveway and climbed out with the bag of groceries. He was dressed casually in jeans and a blue flannel shirt with a _Smallville Crows_ baseball cap turned backwards. The shirt hung off his thin frame as he jogged to the farmhouse.

Mr. Gaffney had asked him to make the delivery before he quit for the day. Mike would have preferred to skip this trip and start celebrating, but the delivery wouldn’t take long. Just ring the doorbell, leave the bag on the porch, and take off. Easy as pie.

Mike stepped up on the sagging porch and rang the doorbell. He put the bag on an old cane chair and went down the steps. He had already fished out the money for the groceries (including tip) from the mailbox at the end of the driveway. Eckersley Tannen had an account at the general store and Mr. Gaffney would send him his standing orders like clockwork. No interaction, which suited Mike just fine and Tannen even better. 

Mike frowned. What was that smell? It was brackish, like polluted water. This farm was close to the marsh but not _that_ close.

He looked down. The grass was wet, but it hadn’t rained. He leaned over. It smelled like…

Mike straightened up abruptly. He looked nervously at the nearby woods and saw several broken branches and flattened grass. He shivered as he suddenly felt a wave of panic. He hurried into his car and took off down the driveway with a squeal of tires kicking up gravel.

& & & & & &

Cicely Stawicki smoked a Camel cigarette as Ken Wilson drove his family’s truck, bumping down a side road that was little more than a lane. Cicely’s frosted-blonde hair was loose over her shoulders. Blue eyeshadow dominated her sallow face as cheap earrings dangled and glittered. She wore a black leather jacket over a black T-shirt and jeans. Short, black boots with heels completed her outfit.

“Take it easy, willya?” she complained as the truck jounced over a particularly deep rut.

“Hey, you’re lucky we even got a cow path here.”

She shrugged and flicked her ashes in the ashtray. Ken kept his eyes on the road, but he slowed down.

After a short distance, they could see headlights forming a semi-circle. Ken slowed the truck down even more and parked next to a beat-up old Ford. He turned off his lights and the engine.

Once out of the truck, Ken said, “You guys better kill your lights or your batteries will croak.”

Beefy Al Crenshaw smirked as he drank a beer. “Don’t worry, we were gonna do that as soon as you got here.” He went to his car and shut off his headlights.

Everyone gathered around two Coleman lanterns and a cooler stuffed with ice and beer cans. There were a dozen teenagers laughing and drinking in the small clearing. Al plucked out another can and said, “Now this is a Halloween party, not that lame thing going on in town.”

“Oh, I dunno, keeps the adults busy,” said Carol Cox, her dyed jet-black hair looking like the Bride of Frankenstein. Her eye make-up was heavy and she wore diamond studs in her ears.

“Better yet, keeps Sheriff Adams busy,” aid Cicely.

They all laughed.

“Hey, I got some goodies here.” Al produced a plastic bag. “Quality weed, my friends.”

“Give it here,” Ken said. He was a solid tight end on the football team but liked to cut loose every once in awhile. 

Al passed the bag around while Cicely threw her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out with the heel of her boot. “Don’t want Smokey Bear comin’ after me,” she drawled to more laughter. She grabbed the bag from Ken, pulled out a joint, and passed the bag along.

The distinctive odor of marijuana filled the small glade as beer cans were popped open and lies told. Someone turned on a boombox and dancing began.

After several dances, Cicely sat on a log and smoked a fresh joint. Carol sat next to her as she sipped a beer. 

“This was a good idea, Cee.”

“Yeah, well, I figured Adams would be busy in town. She won’t care what’s going on out here, at least not tonight.”

Carol glanced around nervously. “Wonder what happened to Bull?”

“Oh, the jerk probably got drunk and fell into McCready’s and drowned.”

Carol snorted in laughter. “Probably.”

Cicely inhaled deeply. The sweet smell gave her a sense of pleasure. She wished she could indulge more often, but her mother was like a hawk, always watching her. It was damned annoying.

Trees bustled as the wind whipped up and flickered the lit joints. Someone had lighted a fire to try and ward off the October chill and the flames wavered. Eerie patterns flickered over faces growing glassy-eyed with weed and booze.

Carol glanced over her shoulder. “You hear something?”

Cicely took another deep drag. “You’re jumpy, girl. Have some more weed and relax.”

Carol fished around in the plastic bag. “We’re getting’ low.”

“Bet ol’ Toby has another stash.”

Toby was dancing with his girl Megs and Carol yelled, “Hey, Tobes, you got another stash?”

“Sure, Coxie.” Toby danced over to his pick-up truck. 

Another gust of wind hit, so strong that the campfire’s flames guttered and went out. Swearing and laughter mixed as someone attempted to restart the fire.

Cicely was never quite sure what happened next. Strange noises came out of the woods as the fire went out again. A scream from Toby over by his truck was the last thing that made sense before chaos hit.


	12. "It's Alive!  It's Alive!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween in Smallville…’nuff said! ;)

_"Quite a good scene, isn't it? One man, crazy - three very sane spectators!"_

  


**Dr. Henry Frankenstein**  
**_"Frankenstein"_**  
**1931 C.E.**

  
Lex would never be sure what happened that Halloween night. Some of it was clear. Some of it was fuzzy. Some of it he never would remember.

& & & & & &

“Pretty sexy costume you’ve got there, farmboy.” Lex said as Clark closed the door on another group of trick-or-treaters.

“Really? I could say the same about you.”

“You don’t want to suck my blood?”

Clark blushed. “Maybe I want to suck something else.”

Lex grinned. “C’mere, Count.”

& & & & & &

They had enjoyed a quick whirl of passion before the doorbell rang again. After the last of the trick-or-treaters shuffled down the driveway, Lex and Clark made sure they were no longer disheveled and drove into town in Lex’s Porsche as Martha and Jonathan had taken the truck. The night was appropriately eerie as a full moon rose high in the sky. As they passed the spot where he had seen the broken stalks, Lex felt a chill run down his spine. Had he imagined the whole thing? If you lived in Smallville long enough, you were bound to lose some of your marbles.

& & & & & &

Nancy Adams was keeping an eye on events in town as the movie started. People liked the outdoor venue and despite the cool weather were happily sitting on lawn chairs with blankets and munching on roasted chestnuts, hot buttered popcorn, and warm sausages in toasted buns. Hot chocolate and coffee were available along with cold soft drinks. There was an air of festivity as the good citizens of Smallville had fun.

“Sheriff!”

The urgent voice turned Adams around. Mike Barnwell, the high-schooler who delivered groceries for Roger Gaffney, looked extremely rattled.

“What it is, Mike?”

“Something weird’s going on out at Eckersley Tannen’s place.”

“Like what?”

“He’s nowhere to be found, and there’s a terrible smell right at the edge of his property, like the marsh.”

The sheriff frowned. “I’ll go take a look.” She beckoned her deputy over and Joe Sawyer walked quickly across the lawn.

“There’s something odd going on at the Tannen place. I’m going to check it out. You keep an eye on things here.”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

Adams hurried to her patrol car and quietly drove away.

& & & & & &

“Classic,” commented Lex as he and Clark stopped at the chestnut stand. He sipped his hot chocolate while waving to the Kents in the front row while Clark purchased two bags of warm chestnuts.

“I agree.” Clark sipped his hot chocolate. “I kind of feel sorry for the monster.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He’s like a newborn in this world, trying to understand. People are coming at him, calling him a monster while he’s just trying to make sense of things.” Clark accepted the bags of chestnuts from the vendor. “He needs someone to teach him.”

“Yeah, ol’ Doc Frankenstein dropped the ball on that one.” Lex suddenly felt uncomfortable discussing the mad scientist of the film. He grabbed his bag of chestnuts from Clark’s hand. “Let’s go find some seats.”

They found an empty bench under a bare oak tree and ate their chestnuts and drank their hot chocolate. The air was cool as an owl hooted somewhere off in the trees. The large screen flickered with the black-and-white drama as it unfolded. Dr. Frankenstein hurried to prepare his experiment as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Lex felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and looked quickly over his shoulder, but there was no one…or nothing…there. He met Clark’s quizzical look with a smile and turned back toward the movie, suppressing a shiver.

& & & & & &

Nancy Adams twisted her mouth as she examined the water puddle on the edge of the woods of the Tannen property. It smelled brackish, making her think of McCready’s Marsh. She’d spent a lot of time there recently.

Her knees ached as she squatted down. There was an eerie silence around the Tannen farmhouse. The livestock was long gone, sold off by Eckersley to pay his taxes, and the family dog had died soon after. With Eckersley missing, the farm was deserted. Her flashlight was the only source of illumination as clouds temporarily blocked the moon. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end.

She straightened up, unbuttoning her holster. Her hand hovered around her gun as she flashed the light at the edge of the woods. The beam of light froze as Adams felt her stomach tighten. “My god,” she whispered. She stood over the enormous footprints sunk deeply into the hard ground. “Just like the prints in McCready’s.” Fog began to drift in from the direction of the marsh. 

The wind rippled the shrubs and undergrowth at the edge of the property. Adams shivered as an owl hooted from somewhere in the woods. The fog was cold on her skin.

She frowned as she saw a flicker of light in the distance. What the hell?

“Fire!” she hissed.

Nancy Adams jumped into her patrol car and followed the glow of the flames, fog beginning to envelop the countryside. She called in the fire and bounced along rutted roads and paths that were barely passable. When she parked and ran toward the flames, she dreaded what she was going to find.

& & & & & &

The fog seeped into town. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, though only on-screen as Dr. Frankenstein pulled a lever and the table containing the creature slowly lifted upward toward the opening in the laboratory roof. Electrical discharge crackled in the lab as the storm grew wilder.

Most people were too absorbed in the movie to notice the fog, but Lex took note of it. Tendrils of wispy fog crept onto the square and snaked around trees and people, the coolness touching warm skin. Clark seemed utterly captivated by the movie as he slowly ate his chestnuts and sipped his chocolate. Lex felt uneasy but chalked it up to it being Halloween, or maybe the feathery touch of the fog on his skin.

The trees surrounding Smallville began to shake as a gust of wind blew through the square. Strange noises reached Lex’s ears, but they were muffled by the fog. The table on-screen began to lower as the cinematic storm reached its zenith. Closer than Lex would have liked, there was rustling in the trees as he hurriedly ate a chestnut. On-screen, the creature’s hand moved. Clark suddenly went still.

Dr. Frankenstein cried, _“It’s alive! It’s alive!”_

A loud, squishing sound in the woods was followed by the ground shaking and a bloodcurdling scream, while on the screen, Dr. Frankenstein laughed maniacally. Lex felt his senses battered as a rush of air caused him to drop his bag of chestnuts. The fog rolled in thickly and obscured not only the screen but the audience as well.

“Clark?”

No answer. Of course he was gone.

Lex was never quite sure of the events that night. Was there chaos or just people discomfited by the sudden fog? The noises were terrifying but could it be a Halloween prank by jaded teenagers?

It was impossible to see anything. Snatching up his bag of chestnuts, Lex stumbled against the oak tree. Suddenly he froze. That smell! It was moldy marsh water, just like the puddle by the side of the road that he’d investigated.

The ground shook underneath his feet as Lex felt himself tilt, and he grabbed the tree trunk. Was that someone screaming? He coughed and wished he knew where Clark was, though he had a pretty good idea.

Dracula versus Frankenstein?

A shattering roar was mercifully muffled by the fog. The word ‘bear’ drifted through the fog, but Lex was skeptical. Time slowed like molasses in winter, and Lex slumped against the tree. He heard another scream but this time it came from the screen, though he wasn’t one hundred percent positive. It was hard to gauge where sounds came from in fog.

Lex’s movements were sluggish as he fought to stay upright. What was going on? Since when did fog cause such reactions, but then, this was Smallville. He could hear thrashing in the woods, then more ground shaking. Was it an earthquake?

“Clark,” he whispered.

One huge rumble and people fell like tenpins. A roar was swallowed up by fog as if it never happened.

By the time the fog lifted, the confused citizens of Smallville found their seats and resumed watching the movie as if nothing had happened. Dizzy and cold, Lex found his seat again, anxiously hoping that Clark would show up. The fog hung on the edges of town and in that peculiar way of fog, sounds came from directions that confused the ear. Lex could have sworn that he heard a bellow, but it could have been his imagination. He felt dumbfounded at his reaction and everyone else’s as he watched the saga of a misunderstood monster unfold in a small European village.

It was the weirdest night of Lex’s life, and that was saying something.


	13. Wisps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween drifts away in a haze.

_Like a will-o-the-wisp,_  
_The truth drifts_  
_Just out of reach,_  
_Slipping like_  
_Quicksilver_  
_Through_  
_Questing fingers._

  


**Cecile Monterrey**  
**_"Strange Happenings"_**  
**1967 C.E.**

  
The day after Halloween is like most days after: the decorations looked a little forlorn, especially in the light of day. The town square was littered with wrappers, bags, and a few Styrofoam cups. The lawn chairs were gone, though one stray chair was upended by the hot chocolate stand.

The town’s municipal workers set to work cleaning up as people started their day in a haze, unable to say what exactly had happened the night before. They greeted each other almost sheepishly, making nervous jokes about too much hot chocolate to drink and foggy minds. A few tentatively ventured to ask if anyone else had heard loud roars and felt the ground shake, but were met with shakes of the head and guilty avoidance of eyes. Even by Smallville standards, it was all very strange.

By lunchtime, Smallville learned of the disappearance of nearly a dozen teenagers with only Cicely Stawicki as the survivor of the marijuana party. She was in Smallville’s Medical Center but visitors except for her parents were banned by order of Sheriff Adams. A rumor that surly Eckersley Tannen was missing, too, made the rounds.

“Stoned teenagers missing? They’ll be back. And Eckersley? Guy’s too prickly to just be gone.”

That was the general consensus, though Lex had his doubts. 

Lex had gone home last night, still in a foggy state of mind, and had endured a troubled sleep. He wondered where Clark was and part of him wanted to go out and look for him, but for some reason he just couldn’t rouse himself out of bed. 

So it was on the morning after Halloween that Lex drove out to McCready’s Marsh. He tramped through the swamp-like environs to Lydia Kraven’s cottage. She could help him search for Clark. He was sure of it. He tried not to think about being alone in the shadowed marsh.

The cottage appeared deserted, shafts of sunlight breaking through the trees on this crisp morning. Frost was on the pumpkins back in the countryside, and winter was creeping closer. Autumn would reign for several more weeks, but now it was the slow preparation for the season that would overtake it. The clearing containing the cottage was silent, and that silence set his nerves on edge. He waited at the edge of the clearing, trying his best to look nonchalant as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his short, fleece-lined jacket. Wisps of early morning fog drifted through the clearing from the marsh, cool and stealthy.

She appeared on the porch, coming out of sun-dappled shadows. She was wearing a different cardigan and dress from last time, but they were faded, almost colorless. Nothing but her startling blue eyes stood out.

“Good morning, Lydia.”

“Good morning, Lex.”

“Where is he?”

“Sleeping on my couch.”

_A couch sounds so prosaic._

“May I see him?”

“I’ll have to ask him.”

“It’s okay, Lydia.” Clark opened the door and stepped out onto the porch that creaked under his weight.

“I was worried about you,” said Lex.

“I’m fine.”

Clark stepped out into the sunlight, briefly turning his face upward. His face was bruised and he was wearing a brown homespun shirt that Lex had never seen on him before. His pants were dark-brown breeches with laced-up brown boots. Both looked similar to clothes he owned but Lex was certain they weren’t his. What had happened to his costume? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Clark smiled at Lydia. “Thank you.” He walked down the porch steps toward Lex.

Hugs were exchanged, Lex holding on tight. “You should’ve called!”

“I’m sorry.” Clark sounded uncertain. “I’m not sure why I didn’t.” They broke the embrace. “I have to let Mom and Dad know I’m okay.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

Clark turned to Lydia. “About the...”

“All should be quiet now.”

Clark absorbed that statement and slowly nodded to Lydia, who inclined her head in acknowledgment. He headed into the woods.

“Thank you for the note on my doorstep.”

Lydia said nothing but didn’t appear hostile. Lex decided to catch up with Clark. As he turned to leave, she said, “Keep your eyes on him.”

He turned back and didn’t feel uncomfortable under her blue gaze. “I will.”

“He’s special.”

“I know.”

She seemed to melt back into the shadows. “The marsh reclaims its own. There will be no more monsters to stalk the night.”

“Did Clark…?”

“Don’t ask too many questions.”

“But…”

She was gone.

& & & & & &

The Kents scolded their son and thanked Lex for bringing him home. Clark assured them that he was fine, and somehow ended up with permission to go back with Lex to the castle. Surprised but pleased, Lex led Clark into the library.

“What happened last night?” Clark looked uncomfortable. Lex remembered Lydia’s admonition. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t need to know.”

“I, uh, I’m not really sure.”

Lex nodded slowly. It fit. Everyone in town was befuddled, according to the Kents. Had this marsh monster clouded men’s minds like the Shadow of the old radio show? Lex remembered how confused he’d been last night, feeling weak and loopy. The Kents had been so out of it that they’d barely registered Clark’s absence, highly unusual for them. 

Clark stepped into Lex’s space. Need radiated off him in waves. He kissed Lex, almost chaste. Lex returned the kiss.

“Upstairs,” he whispered.

They were deliberate in their movements, though stumbled going up the stairs.

Once in Lex’s bedroom, Clark stared at Lex. What lay unspoken between them might always be so, though Lex hoped someday that might change.

Lex touched Clark’s bicep. He could feel a slight trembling.

_I almost lost you._

Despite his fuzzy memories he knew that Clark had fought a monster. His usually trusting friend trusted to a point. Whatever his Secret was, it was more than meteor freakery, and Lex was determined to be patient for once in his life.

Right now, secrets be damned, big ‘S’ or not. He drew Clark to him and kissed him as he stroked his lover’s broad back.

As if hearing his thoughts, Clark sighed in relief and held on tight. They tumbled into the bed, desperate and needy and confused but grateful for surviving. Surviving Smallville was no small thing.

& & & & & &

**Epilogue**

This most recent Halloween was never quite remembered as the years went by. People had only vague memories of what had happened that night. They did remember the movie on the town square and fog, but nothing much after that. The memories were like the fog itself: wisps that eluded a firm grasp.

Eckersley Tannen’s disappearance sort of slid away, people barely remembering him except for the auction of his farm, as he had no heirs or relatives.

The fate of the teenagers who disappeared in the woods that night remained an unsolved mystery. Some thought that Cicely Stawicki had something to do with it, but she just ranted and raved about a monster and finally ended up in Belle Reve.

& & & & & &

Outside of Castle Luthor the wind blew, gently knocking over a small bag of foxglove, feverfew, and ladies’ slippers down the steps of the side porch, all herbs useful to one who knew the medicinal treasures of the marsh, a gift of great price. 


End file.
